Trapped in Amber
by HutchinsonSky
Summary: The missing posters scattered across Arcadia Bay. Memories cherished by a few not willing to give up. A few choice mementos and photographs scattered among admirers, lovers, and friends. Is that all that remains of Rachel Amber? This story covers the life of Rachel Amber in those fateful years before Max Caufield arrived. Her love, her life, her cherished moments.
1. Golden Moments

_They say a pictures worth a thousand words, but I'm not much for crowds. So allow me to share this more intimate gathering of syllables and symmetry with you. My name is Rachel Amber and if you're reading this it means I'm dead. Kidding, but seriously I wouldn't just let anyone read this so you must be pretty special to me, or especially nosy._

 _I'm listening to a clock now. My dad got me one of those old ticking tocking clocks that can drive anyone just nuts, but I love it. It shines when the light hits it just so and though I know it's just brass to me those moments will always be golden._

 _It's funny how time shapes us not just in it's passing, but how we appreciate it. Time comes in so many forms. Memories cherished and loathed, photographs held close, stories both riveting and mundane, and too often those moments crystallized and left behind in perfection only without you in them. I long for the past, but stride towards a future uncertain of my steps. I have no choice, but perhaps if I could turn back time..._

A loud clunk and then another some seconds later caused Rachel to pause and then smile. Truthfully the present was a drying well to her, but there were still some things to be treasured in Arcadia Bay. One such treasure was currently traipsing up the stairs to dutifully knock on her door before disregarding it and barging in. Turning slowly Rachel beheld her ever faithless companion with a smirk, "Well do make yourself at home,"

"Sure thing, your mom makes damn good ummm it's like this hot bread thing sandwich" the girl's arms stretched out as if to grasp the wistful word just out of reach of tongue and mind. Rachel dutifully tried to aid her tongue-tied friend by offering a possibility, "Panini?"

"You mispronounced mouthgasm"

Rachel was laughing now and her friend was smiling, the sun his just right on the golden clock. Another perfect moment to leave behind.

"Oh Chloe..." she said, two words as simple and plain as they were infinitely complex and decorated with treasured emotion. A hand was offered in reply, a hand that was taken gladly. As the two walked off on yet another escapade usually involving the need to actually escape, Rachel allowed her mind to wander off to a time B.C. (Before Chloe for those of you at home).Drifting past the twisted forward march of the clock and flapping back the calendar she arrived on the footsteps of greatness, the first she had to climb to make her way to where all this everything and nothing began.

Blackwell Academy.

She held her bags tight as she ascended and while they were rather light compared to others coming in her nervous hands and twitching legs weren't in agreement. Her first steps with a blank slate in a new school to start a new life and Rachel Amber's first action was to trip spectacularly. She was quite lucky she landed on her bags though while she was relatively unscathed they both suffered mortal wounds. Slashed open widely their guts of clothes and makeup spewed onto the campus grass. Rachel might have been embarrassed by the fall, she may have been dismayed by the fate of her bags, but instead she was distraught because she lost her feather.

Just a feather. Just a feather you might say, but you couldn't be more wrong. As a feather lifts a bird so too did this feather keep Rachel's spirit aloft and alive. A gift from her grandmother and the only thing Rachel could hold onto of hers. She was promised another gift when she was very young, but as her grandmother passed it seemed that gift would never come.

Twisting in the treacherous wind another Rachel stood quickly and ran after it. Hands reaching feet shifting and slipping in the morning dew. Within twenty three seconds of coming to Blackwell Academy Rachel Amber had fallen twice. Within thirty seconds she would have been crying. That changed when she heard the clattering steps of a chaotic force that would leave her life in utter ruins. Her beautiful disastrous savior, Chloe Price.

Rushing past the fallen Rachel, Chloe booked it toward the swiftly fluttering feather. Hurdling a stone bench the young girl was unabated by the slick earth and the many obstacles in her way. Approaching a hill, Rachel saw this girls chance to save her feather slipping away as swiftly as it had initially escaped, but rather than fall or fail, Chloe jumped. Skyward she went and earthbound she returned crashing into a rolling tumble of ows.

Getting up Rachel rushed over to the fallen girl and saw her head turned away her body only moving in slight twitches. Fearing the worst Rachel pulled her over to reveal a bright smile and rumbling laughter as she held the bright blue feather high with a victorious, "Hell yeah!"

Grass stains and knee pains were the topic of conversation as Rachel accompanied Chloe to the nurse's office. What brought them to Blackwell bounced about them as they walked the halls to their next class. Excited whispers of plans together secreted their way across the aisle as they sat next to each other in class, much to the chagrin of a highly aware art teacher. So through a willful feather, a fateful fall, and a leap of faith these two distant dots along destinies path found their paths intertwined. Whether they were passing stars destined to shoot past one another or celestial bodies set to orbit together for cosmic infinity was yet to be seen, what was certain was that Rachel had found yet another crystallized moment, something more to leave behind as she wandered along down the worn path of her life.


	2. Frozen Sunshine

_Finally finished unpacking. What was once a barren room filled with limitless potential now simply is what it is. I'm not so sure if that's sad or not, but I couldn't live in an empty room forever. I suppose I could, but then when people came over they'd worry I was poor or insane or I'd had all my things spited away in the night by thieving raccoon._

 _I'm a big fan of raccoons. You could certainly call me pro-raccoon. In Germany the name for them is Waschbär, which means 'wash bear', which is adorable. If I had a choice I'd have one as a pet, but if Blackwell even allows pets I doubt they'd let a bear onto campus no matter his small size and level of cleanliness. I'd probably give him an expected name like Bandit and he'd steal everyone's hearts. Wow, looking back on that I should probably fill this journal fast before everyone thinks I'm raccoon obsessed. I mean, I am, but I'm obsessed with a lot of other things. Like dreams._

 _All kinds of dreams really, the kinds I've been having and those I want more than anything in the world. Rachel Amber was my birth name, but my grandmother gave me another, she whispered it in my ear when I was young as my mother was never much into tradition. Sadly I can't say I remember every syllable, but I'll always remember the meaning. Sun seeker._

 _I've had a lot of confusion in my life, but that always made sense to me. The sun is warm and needed and a part of everyone's life every single day. In fact it wouldn't be a day without it. I suppose that makes me envious. Is it selfish to want the world to revolve around you? Did I really just write that?_

Rachel pressed the tip of her pen to paper, but no more words formed. Searching her mind for a time the girl's eyes scanned her desk looking out at all the posters not placed and the photos not arranged. There were plenty of photographers on this planet it seemed, but Rachel's photo collection was simply a personal gathering of memories. Shots with her dad laughing holding a bass because she said she wanted it and didn't quite get how to pronounce her 'b's just yet. A shot of her mom sitting on her favorite bench taking in a sunrise with a cup of tea. A picture of her dog chasing a raccoon and Rachel chasing her dog. So much laughter in those captured bits of light. That frozen sunshine.

Pushing back Rachel looked at the second page of her journal and smiled. Her father had given it to her as a gift. He'd kept one when he had gone off to college and it had been forever precious to him as it reminded him of his first moments away from home. Rachel's brow furrowed as she remembered when the letter from Blackwell arrived allowing her entry and providing a generous scholarship. She recalled the look in her parents eyes as she told them, they were ecstatic up to the point that they heard that word. Scholarship. It seemed they had it all planned out, they were going to tell her that is was 'fantastic' that she was smart enough to get into such a prestigious skill, but they just didn't have the money. Now that that problem was shot the two were hard pressed to deny Rachel what she wanted, she always had a way of getting it after all. So saddened to see her go, but happy to see her dreams coming true the two let their daughter go off, but not before her father gifted her that journal that meant so much to him. A journal that was completely empty.

Leaving her dorm room behind Rachel began to explore the campus taking in all the natural beauty. From stoic totem polls to imposing statues, past and present seemed to collide and meld as youthful spirits trekked through the mire left in their wonderful destruction. Looking over all her fellow students Rachel felt a bit off, but seeing them from a distance she saw that at least the feeling was mutual at least with the new students like her. Scanning eyes caught a glimpse of a camera's flash. Looking over she saw a young man pursuing a squirrel his lens trained on the scurrying creatures rapidly flapping tail, "Come back here!" he said only worsening his chances of finding a useful model. Caught up in amusement Rachel was just as surprised as the photographer when he crashed into a tree the squirrel sought as refuge. His camera led the way in the impact cracking as it met wood and slamming back into its user's face. As the man crumpled Rachel saw two shades of red. One from embarrassment and the other from-

"Blood..."

He clutched his nose swearing in pain as Rachel found herself moving forward inexplicably drawn into the center of this disaster. Kneeling now and looking over at the boys camera she winced as she saw his nose wasn't much better off. Without thinking she removed her scarf and applied it to his nose. Hot red dampened the cloth once rich with beauty and artful design, now it was no more than a rag and worse one who'd found its first and final use.

A security officer arrived then and began calling for medical help. Rachel found herself standing now as she turned and walked away. She heard cries to return, but shaken as she was she did not willfully disregard them. That strange force which drew her towards the boy was now spiriting her away to...who knows where.

She found herself by the girls dorms. For a moment Rachel was as still as the leaves, but just as a gust can come so swiftly so too did her emotional tumult. Gripping herself she shook with withheld fear as adrenaline at last subsided. Oddly enough it was not the bloodied boy nor the battered camera that became her emotional focus, but rather the death of her scarf. It was just an ordinary scarf, manufactured in Thailand and shipped without ceremony to a strange new land to be placed in a shop and picked up without so much thought as to try it on. While it did not feel or think if it had it might have been happy to know it's owner was quite pleased with it, she wore it everywhere and with everything. On cold days or hot, windy or not, that scarf found a place around her neck. That is until she presented it as a gift to her daughter, a going away present to let her now how much she loved her.

Rachel had used it as a rag.

"Oh we can't have that"

Rachel swiftly stirred from her weeping state to realize she was not alone. Turning she looked up to see a somewhat portly man with a goatee and hair as dark as the coming night. His gloved hand was outstretched, the fabric worn from harsh everyday use. Rachel took it after a time and after being lifted the man commented, "We can't have those tears no. That's no good for a pretty face."

Rachel looked down at that, but her spirits were raised a bit. For a brief moment her mind contemplated explaining what led her to this place and this state, but her mouth jumped the gun as she said, "I lost my scarf"

What a small thing it seemed to be said by that, yet this man seemed to understand, or perhaps not it was hard to tell past his glasses if his eyes were contemplative or merely glazed. Moving away through a nearby shed the man was gone for a time and Rachel thought of leaving to go to her room, a much better place for a quiet cry, but just as she made that decision the man returned with another scarf. Handing it to her swiftly he said simply, "Better?"

Rachel didn't know what to say and rather than allowing her mouth to make determinations again the girl instead stayed silently though she allowed a shy smile which the man returned as he said, "So many lost things in my shed, but few found ones."

Rachel's brow furrowed at that, but she relaxed as this man's peculiar nature swept past her like a wind from a high mountain. Cool and distant yet at the same time refreshing. Mind and mouth again as one she replied, "Thank you"

As she returned to her dorm and went about her day she'd later learn the man's name. Samuel. However even learning his name so late, she already felt she knew him. If not in body or mind, perhaps in another way. As her scarf shook in another sudden breeze Rachel again found herself thankful, for the unremarkable lost things that had come into her life. As she watched another sunset she took the hand of something found,

"So what do you want to do tonight?" Rachel asked with a smirk.

"Anything but sleep," Chloe replied as the two walked off campus and towards someplace called lost. As Rachel searched the stars she saw Leo was burning bright tonight. She'd been a Cancer by birth, but that never stopped her from saying she was a Leo. That was the Leo way after all. With the stars above guiding her and a friend below to lead Rachel began to run as she declared

"That can be arranged!"


	3. Here, Together

_Finally finished unpacking. I have to admit seeing that stack of empty boxes I really wanted to be a cat. I've always been more of a dog person, but if we're going full kindergarten I'd say my favorite animal has to be a butterfly. Seems pretty basic right? However their beauty isn't what attracted me to them. It was their fragility._

 _My parent's took me on nature outings a lot when I was a child. Begrudgingly so, I'm sure. My grandmother always encouraged us to 'seek our spirit', which as it turns out can't be found watching reruns of Full House in your bed at two in the afternoon (is TMI a thing in a journal? Hope not). At any rate I saw a ton of green as a kid and besides the usual of frolicking, running for no reason, and pointing and shouting at every little thing I found interesting, I mostly looked for butterflies._

 _I remember seeing my first. It fluttered right past me. It was in the corner of my eye for less than a second, but that brilliant flash of color dancing through the air will never be forgotten. They were so free and energetic, I cried when my mom got me a net and jars for my birthday, why would you want to trap something like that? All you could do then is watch it die._

 _I asked my grandma about butterflies a lot and she always had stories. Turns out the butterflies didn't come from evolution (suck it Darwin). Instead they were from the breath of a beautiful princess. I asked her if my breath could make butterflies, but she seemed to think it was a one time thing._

 _Butterflies were gifts. To reminds us that even the ugliest can transform. With enough effort in an unexpected time and way we can all become butterflies. I've stopped believing a lot of my grandmothers stories. This one I hold onto. This one must be true._

Rachel looked into the starry sky as she ran, her companion not close behind. It seemed the adoption of cigarettes was not aiding Chloe's untrained cardio as she grudgingly huffed on out of pride or lack of breath for begging. Luckily it wasn't too long before the two found an unconventional place to rest, but a rather poetic one. The junkyard.

amisdt the cars quietly rusting and signs slowly fading was a bit of slowness in time. This rarity was recognized and relished by the pair as they began to search this diamond mine of memory their plunging not so deep before they made their first discoveries, which they both eagerly shared,

"Check out these rad sunglasses," Chloe said as a lens fell and clattered atop a rock. Cursing and bending over to see if her salvage could be re-salvaged, she arose perplexed as she felt a weight upon her head that for once wasn't emotional or drug induced. Looking up at the source of this unexpected gravity, Chloe's eyes caught the sight of a rather formal bow as Rachel declared,

"All hail Queen Chloe."

Laying atop a rocky outcrop outside the junkyard their eyes in adrift in stars and void Chloe held aloft the symbol of her sudden and amusing title and smirked. It was a crown, cheap, plastic, and chipped with age and misuse. In the dark it's falsity of gleam was hidden away as were many of it's flaws. A crown befitting it's queen.

"What's your first decree?" Rachel asked her voice whistling into the cool night

"Ban all bitches"

Rachel nodded in approval as her hands rose to clasp behind her neck. As they rose one clipped Chloe's arm and noted it's harsh quivering.

"Cold?"

"Uh, yeah" Chloe replied, the crack in her voice as obvious as the one Rachel had left on her father's windshield after her first night out with the car.

Rather than calling her out on it Rachel rose and looked down at the junkyard. In it's dearth of death lay possibility, one man's trash and all that. Seeing a small concrete shack she began walking towards it, her milling pace quickening as she gained a follower. Soon enough Rachel was running full sprint, a horrid trick she had used time and time again on her parents as a youngster. Chloe could be heard weaving and heaving through the scattered bits and pieces of past until at last Rachel simply

Stopped.

Simple, gray, and a deep black begging for exploration. Rachel attempted to pierce the shacks depths, but only surmised the contents of a few scant inches before being denied further viewing by simple lack of light. She was going in there, that was a choice already made, but it was only half the equation. Lifting her hand Rachel swiftly grasped the other half.

Eyes useless in the dark the two simply looked upon the other's brave faces as they embraced the pure dark. Their tenuous connection of flesh and warmth soon became their only knowledge of each other. Coupled with their breathing and small oos of discovery they slowly made up a universe of one another and the darkness, their shared warmth the sun that would bring light and warmth to the black and the blank.

Eyes adjusting the two saw it was merely empty. A shell. However by simply coming in together their machinations on this space had already begun. Their marks would be left upon this place subtle and filled with memory only fully appreciated with the fading of time. Those parts would come later though as a can of black spray paint came into their mitts. With an expert flick Chloe left her mark swiftly followed by Rachel.

Leaving with the coming sun they looked back upon their mark on their little piece of slowed time.

 **Chloe was here**

 **Rachel was here**

Together


End file.
